Pure Perfection
by QueenStrata
Summary: Harry and Draco muse on forbidden fruit. Then they get it.


A/N: This is a totally random little ficlet that came to me about eight o'clock last night. I was forced to stay up past midnight writing this relatively small thing, because I knew that if I waited until today to finish it, I would lose my train of thought and it would end up really crappy. Now, this ficlet is a bit odd. It is from both Harry's and Draco's POVs. When I have a hyphen, it signifies the changing POV from Harry to Draco and vice versa. It starts out as simple monologues, but ends up as a weird PWP story kind of thingy. Anyway, without farther ado, I present my oddest ficlet ever.

Warnings: **SLASH**, slightly angsty, bad grammar-that's what happens in first-person fics sometimes.

Disclaimer: Don't own Draco or Harry. Or Seamus and Dean. Or Voldemort, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, or Severus Snape-all of who are mentioned in this story.

Pure Perfection 

Do you know what it's like to desire the one person you know you can never have? Do you understand the true concept of desiring forbidden fruit?

If you're like most people, you don't. But I do.

And what a forbidden fruit this is! A lithe, muscled body, cold, calculating eyes, perfect, evil sneer, the wit, the sarcasm, the timed insults, that poise, that catlike grace: all make him who he is.

He is the second most forbidden fruit for me, only Voldemort himself could top the fruit I desire. And only one person can keep a close third to him.

But they aren't the same. Neither of them have the frail beauty he possesses. 

But he does not desire me that way. And he is on the other side.

Yet, I still fear that I just might be able to say one day that I've fallen in love with-

Draco Malfoy. 

That is who I am. My whole personality and outlook on life can be discovered just by knowing my name.

Or so they think.

And I allow them to think that. After all, it is not expected of me to be as rebellious as most teenagers. And I am not.

What my father commands, I do. What my father believes, I believe.

However.

Even I cannot resist the call of the forbidden fruit. I find myself lusting after the only one I shouldn't.

But I don't mind. It is perfectly normal for the Evil to desire the Good.

Not because of the concept of forbidden fruit. Because Evil is fascinated with the pureness of Good.

It is such a common ailment of us to desire what we shall never receive. Among evil, the most prominently known desires are those of my parents, as well as Snape. Father desired the cool calmness of a hidden beast Remus Lupin had. Mother desired the outgoing optimism of Sirius Black. Snape desired the careless perfection of James Potter. And I?

I find myself drawn to emerald eyes, to an open, honest smile, to the messy beauty, to the innocence of one who shares the Evil of Voldemort. 

And he is the epitome of Goodness and Love.

And I have fallen in love with-

The Boy-Who-Lived. 

The savior of the wizarding world. Who I am expected to be.

My destiny is to live out your average action/adventure movie. I go from being a nobody to being the savior of the world. And, in the end, I will come close to dying, beat the bad guy against all odds, and get the girl. But I don't want the girl.

Instead, I want to run my hands through silken strands of silver hair, to stare into the stormy gray depths of his eyes, to caress the soft ivory skin, to kiss those pink lips. I want to know how Adam felt when he bit into the forbidden fruit. I want to feel with Draco what Seamus and Dean feel for each other. I want to become tainted with Evil. 

I want Draco Malfoy.

But I won't have him. Because he is-

The epitome of Evil.

And his is the epitome of Good.

I am the night, beautiful, but cold and mysterious, welcomed only by my own.

He is the day, beautiful, warm, and open, welcomed by all. He is the sun, shedding light upon all who desire it. He is untamable, black hair. He is bottomless, emerald eyes. He is sweet, spicy cinnamon. He is the Good hero born of Evil. He is-

Harry Potter. 

So few people know the person behind the famous name. But that is their own fault. Nobody wants to know me. Not the real me.

If I wasn't famous, I would be as miscellaneous as Terry Boot and Justin Finch-Fletchley. I would not be friends with Ron and Hermione. I would not be on Voldemort's Top Ten List of People to Kill. I would not be enemies with Draco.

Nor will I be the enemy much longer. The call of the forbidden fruit is becoming too strong.

And I've finally done it. I've finally fallen in love.

I can no longer withhold against the overwhelming desire to feel his silken hair between my fingers, to caress the pale ivory skin, to feel his lips pressed against mine, to taste the sweetness that is sure to be Draco Malfoy. And it must happen-

Today.

It must happen today. 

I cannot withstand my desire any longer. I must have the forbidden fruit known as Harry Potter. I will have him as my own.

Or I will die trying.

My life is to be destroyed, unless I can have my forbidden fruit.

I know what everyone will say. I know how they will disapprove.

Well, to hell with them all.

I am Draco Malfoy. I always get what I want.

And I want Harry. And I will get him.

Fortunately, I already know where he is. He is sitting by the lake. 

I know this because I have been watching him the past half hour.

I stand up. I walk out the doors of Hogwarts, towards the lake. I am nearly there.

Two feet…

One foot…

I'm there.

It will happen-

Now.

It's going to happen now. I feel it in my soul.

And I see it in his eyes.

So, after all the angsting I'd done, I find that he desires me as much as I desire him.

I open my mouth to say something, I'm not sure what, but, before I can make a sound, he is on me.

His lips are latched to mine, and his hands have immediately wrapped around my waist, pulling me close to him.

I respond enthusiastically, finally feeling his hair between my fingers.

We sink down to the grass, entangled with each other.

I pull away from him regretfully, and mumble something about being seen in broad sunlight.

He growls back something about how we must have already been seen before reapplying his lips to mine.

Conceding his point, I begin pulling his clothes off, no longer giving a damn about prying eyes. 

He responds with equal fervor, and, as we profess our love for each other without words, only one thought is running through my head.

This is-

Perfection.

Pure perfection.

A/N: And, there we have it. My from 8 pm to midnight ficlet. Awfully weird, isn't it? And kinky at the end. Though, I must admit that- Never mind. I'll keep my thoughts to myself.

Anywhoo, please, _please, **please, please**_ review. This is the oddest thing I've ever written, and, to tell you the truth, I rather like this style of writing. I should write like this more often. ::evil grin:: But, I need reviews on this, so review!!!!!!!!


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